Salvador was not the savior. His parents were the heroes. His brother was a genius and his sister was a leader. Sal didn’t even have a cabin. He was the youngest of his friends, the scrawniest, the loudest, the wimpiest, the least competent, and the most likely to fall off a cliff on a quest. People looked at him expecting to see sea-green or gray eyes and black or blonde hair. Sorry to disappoint, but Sal’s eyes were a dirty mix of gray and green and his hair was a boring brown. Furthermore, he had never finished anything in his life. He wasn’t made for the hero life, something few people were willing to accept. All he ever wanted was for people to be okay with the fact that he was okay with who he was. It wasn’t until Sal finished his one task to save the camp that he realized he didn’t need to be a hero for them. It was then that he became a hero for himself.